


Untitled Anderstark AU Drabble

by anythingbutplatonic



Series: Blaine Stark Series [2]
Category: Glee, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Anderstark AU, M/M, blaine stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderstark AU: Tony visits his son in the hospital after the Sadie Hawkins dance. Originally posted on Tumblr December 27th 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Anderstark AU Drabble

Tony Stark was no stranger to injury, serious or otherwise.

Cuts and scrapes were an everyday occurrence when you habitually spent your time inventing and re-inventing a fully-body bionic suit powered by the force of two small rockets (not that he ever set them off in the laboratory…..often). Even burns sometimes from an unsealed electrical wire or malfunction in the machinery. 

And, a year ago, he had come away from a routine visit to the army bases in the Middle East with metal and wires embedded into his chest to keep him alive when shards of shrapnel from a bomb entered his heart. 

So no, he was no stranger to injury and pain. It had become a frequent part of his life.

But it was still a shock, still bewildering, when he pushed open the door to the hospital room where his son lay, asleep, but taped up in bandages and gauze and wires and tubes, each attached to a number of different monitors.

 

He remembered what a cheerful nurse had told him when he arrived; broken ribs, shattered kneecap, extensive bruising, dislocated shoulder, sprained wrist, substantial blood loss, moderate concussion.

The list went on. 

He figured he’d rather have his arc reactor removed than experience any of that, especially when the kid was only fifteen. But what was done was done and the only thing that Tony could do now was be supportive.

He slipped into one of the plastic chairs in the room, dragged it as quietly as he could over to the bed, and looked around conspicuously when it made an audible, high-pitched squeak that he was sure would wake Blaine up, but it didn’t. He simply slept on, oblivious to the fact that he was even there, watching over him. 

Tony always felt awkward in hospitals. They made him nervous, and this occasion was no different. But this wasn’t about him, it was about Blaine, and he tried to quell his nervousness as he cleared his throat tentatively, hoping that Blaine would wake at the sound of the noise.

He snuffled in his sleep, but he didn’t stir.

Tony remembered a photograph that Leanna, Blaine’s mother, had sent him when Blaine was born. Though the picture was a little grainy and blurred, he had seen as clear as day the tiny nose, the small patch of dark hair, the wide, watchful eyes wary of the camera lens, the impossibly minuscule fingers and toes. 

He looked rather similar now as he did then. Tony could recognise the same features, the same expression, but this time on a much older face. He knew that the slope of the nose, if it wasn’t taped with gauze from a punch, would be the same. 

A sharp intake of breath to his right and the sound of bed springs creaking brought him out of his reverie, and he rushed to help the newly-awake Blaine sit up in the regulation hospital bed, guiding him gently, all too aware that he couldn’t be too rough, that he’d hurt him. He winced when Blaine screwed his face up against what he guessed was the pain shooting through his bandaged ribs, although he tried to disguise his discomfort with a watery smile. 

He thought he felt his own arc reactor pull at the soft tissue of his chest in response, but he might have been imagining it.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi.”

And just like that, Tony felt himself let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

“You came…?” Blaine sounded surprised, but he hadn’t realized how easy it was to get from California to Ohio when you had a private jet. 

“Yeah, I came. You didn’t think I wouldn’t, did you?” He opted for bravado, but a part of him feared the answer. 

“No, no….my mom said you were busy, so I didn’t….” Blaine was only managing to speak in half-sentences, whether from the pain in his chest or because he simply couldn’t, Tony didn’t know. 

“Hey, come on now. Relax. Or try to, at least." 

"Does it hurt?” Blaine asked suddenly, turning to face him finally. Tony saw the bruises around his eyes and across his nose, the cut on his lip that had to be smarting, the gauze over the deep gash in his forehead on the left-hand side.

“Does what hurt?”

Blaine’s eyes travelled down to where the arc reactor glowed under his shirt. Tony followed his gaze.

“Oh, that. No, that’s…not so much.” He paused. “Not anymore. It looks cool, though, right?”

“Right.” He swore he saw Blaine roll his eyes as he spoke. 

“What?” he said indignantly, nudging Blaine’s arm where it lay at his side. “I’m Iron Man, remember?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Blaine had wrapped his free arm around his chest, hugging himself, his lips a thin line.  _He’s in pain._

“Hurts?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Do want me to get a nurse, or….?” Tony looked around as if expecting one to materialize in front of him, and was acutely aware of how  _awkward_  he was here. 

“No, I’m alright,” he insisted, but he was wheezing. 

“Blaine, you’re in pain, let me get a nurse-”

Blaine cut him off. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Tony closed his hand around Blaine’s upper arm where it was pressed tight to his side. “Let me get a nurse, and you can get some morphine for it, okay?”

Blaine sagged into the bed, defeated, and Tony couldn’t help but notice how  _small_  he looked. Granted, he was always a bit on the short side - something he’d got from him, it was a family trait - but he didn’t look his age. He looked much younger, thin and worn out. 

“Thanks, dad.”

When he left the room to see to the morphine, Tony pretended that he had a speck of dust in his eye that _no_ , he wasn’t crying.

 

 


End file.
